The Playmaker and the Drama King
by MyCrimsonDawn
Summary: Slash! Troy discovers he's gay. He has a crush on Ryan. Ryan has a crush on him. When all is spilled, it first appears all will work out well. But of course there's gotta be a catch. DONE! Eternal love to all my reviewers!
1. Wonder

Ok, this story just sort of came to me when I was on the trip back from NY. Oh, and I suck at spelling and spellcheck...wordpad doesn't have it...so if there are any errors...be gentle. This chapter isn't really anything...the good stuff comes later. Oh, btw, this is a slash, so if it offends you in anyway, just **stop reading now!** The story mostly just has Troy, Gabriella, Sharpey, and Ryan. I have no idea where this is going at the moment though... so yah, enjoy.

* * *

Sharpay Evans pushed open the doors of the main entrance to her school, East High, and strode inside. Many eyes fell on her; she knew that. She could feel them, and she liked it, the attention that is; even if some of the attention wasn't good.

Not everyone in East High liked Sharpay. She was snobby, bossy, controling, aggitating- do I have to continue? But she wasn't _completely_ hated by the student body; close, but not completely. Things for her had actually improved ever since she started going out with Zeke. The basketball team was forced to be around her, and over time grew used to her and liked her (on some levels). She made new friends and was actually happier. Who knew dating a jock would have such benefits?

And even if she wasn't in the spotlight completely anymore (even though Gabriella and Troy had only stared in one production at East High), she was improving her acting, singing, and dancing buy playing in different parts than she was accustumed to. She was learning new things, like how to improvise.

Yes, it all traced back to Grabriella and Troy. It would seem Sharpay would owe them a big thank you, right? Well, she would, for once, be willing to thank them, but she wasn't exactly sure if she should anymore. See, there have been a few rumors going around. It's been told that even though the two spent the entire summer together; including two weeks at the beach, a weekend at Kings Dominion, and countless evenings at movies and malls; the East High perfect couple had split.

What's worse is that Sharpay had no idea as to _why_ the split occured. Sharpay _hated_ not knowing these kinds of things. It killed her. Slowly, but steadily, it killed her. She needed to know. She just needed to know. No matter what the cost, no matter what strings she had to pull, no matter who she had to interogate, no matter how much snouping she needed to do, she was going to find out. Oh yes, she was going to to find out. And she was going to start today.

"Hey sis."

Sharpay jumped, a little startled at the sound of her brother, Ryan's, voice.

"Uh! Don't sneak up on me like that!" she half shrieked.

Ryan squinted slightly and looked around, a little confused. "But...I didn't come up behind you...I came up in front of you."

"Oh. Right. Well, uh, we should get going; we still need to get our stuff and we don't want to be late for homeroom."

"Ok." And that smile was back. Why was it that her brother always seemed to have that smile on? So clueless, so innocent...like he didn't know anything about being _un_happy. Sometimes it was almost, well, scary. But most times, it was just comforting, knowing that there was still something to smile about, be happy about, no matter what it is.


	2. Realization

'First day back to school...yay,' was Troy Bolton's first thought upon entering Eastwood High.

It wasn't that Troy_hated_ school; no, no, he rather loved it; just that, well, it hadn't been the easiest summer and he wasn't to sure school would seem any better. Well, scratch that first part; summer had been great, for the most part, until just a few weeks before school started. It would be their seven month anniversarry, and they had wanted it to be special; well, _she_ had wanted it to be special. She asked him if he wanted to spend the night with her. _Alone._ He hadn't known what to do. It was so sudden, so surprising. He'd said yes. Oh, why did he have to say yes?

He'd gone over to her house, hoping for a nice night. Dinner, maybe a nice movie, games, star gazing, something along those lines! But no. He'd gotten there to find dimmed lights, wine, strawberries, and a blanket on the floor. Why, why did he have to say yes?

At first it was ok. They had a drink, kissed. The kissing got deeper, sweeter. It wasn't bad, but...it wasn't good either. He'd noticed it for a while. Being with Gabriella hadn't felt the same. Kissing her hadn't felt as soft, as smooth. Holding her hand hadn't felt as warm. Taking her in his arms hadn't felt as comfortable, as relaxing. Everything felt so different...wrong.

The kisses progressed and soon Troy felt himself have to move on. He didn't want to upset Gabriella. She meant so much to him. So he began to kiss her neck. He kissed and kissed and kissed, all over the neck, shoulders, the edges of her upper chest. He kept avoiding what he knew was coming. He wished it hadn't came.

Soon Gabriella was helping him help her out of her cloths. Soon she had no top...then no skirt...next she was unhooking her own bra...He hadn't been able to take it. He just could not have sex with her. He'd pulled away right then and curled up into the fetal position by the couch, holding back tears.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I just...I can't..." he'd said.

Gabriella had freaked. She thought it had been her, that she'd done something wrong or that he just didn't like her like that anymore. But he'd said no, it wasn't her fault. It really wasn't. It was his. And she'd taken him in her arms and let him cry, first a few dry sobs until the tears had come spilling out, almost like pouring rain. He'd cried and cried into her bear shoulder. And when he'd finally finished, still sniffling lightly, she'd pulled the blanket around them and they'd fallen asleep on the floor.

Then, the next morning, he'd woken in the same position, but with the tv on and Gabriella watching the Discovery Channel. When she'd seen that he'd woken up, she'd turned off the tv. They stayed sitting for a few minutes before Gabriella had gotten up, gotten dressed, and then fixed Troy breakfast. She never said a word, but it was clear she wasn't upset or disappointed or angry.

When he'd finished eating, she'd sat him down and asked, "Troy, what happened last night? Was it because you just weren't ready? Or do you just not like me that way? What is it Troy? Please, tell me; I want to help. And you don't have to worry, I'll always be here for you; I'll always be your friend."

He smiled and put his hand on hers and said sadly, "I really don't know, at least not yet. I just...I couldn't do it...Gabriella, I'm sorry, I really am, but it just...it didn't feel _right_."

She'd hadn't freaked this time. She didn't yell, or cry, or anything like that. She'd smiled and nodded and said, "Then we'll figure it out, Troy, _together_. I promise."

And over the last week of vacation they had figured it out. He'd spent as much time alone with her as possible, talking, trying to figure things out. They'd gone to the mall, the movies, and everything, but they didn't hold hands or kiss or anything anymore. They didn't say so, but they'd broken up. Neither was sure if it was permenent or just until Troy had worked everything out, but they definetly weren't together and anyone and everyone who saw them knew it. Most didn't say, but everyone knew.

But anyway, they had figured it out. They'd done the talking, just letting Troy speak what was on his mind and in his heart. But it wasn't until the last day before school that they'd _really_ figured it out.

They were at the mall, as usual. They'd just left another store, _Hot Topic_, and they were laughing about some silly jacket they'd seen inside. That's when Troy stopped in his tracks and his eyes had gone wide. He was starring at a familiar couple of blondes, Sharpey and Ryan Evans. Garbriella saw, but just watched, waiting.

Normally Troy wouldn't have given the Drama King and Queen of the school a second glance. But today there was something different. He couldn't help but stare. Those ass-hugging jeans. That pearly white smile. Longer, wavier blonde hair than last year, but still the same; mostly in the sense that it was still under a hat. A lime green hat to be exact. That's right, Troy Bolton wasn't starring at Sharpey Evans, but her brother, Ryan Evans.

Troy's mouth had fallen open and he'd let out a small squeak of shock at his discovery. Before Gabriella could ask, he whispered the words only loud enough for her to hear. "Oh god...I'm gay."


	3. It's a date

Beep, beep, beep.

Ryan stirs from a sound sleep.

Beep, beep, beep.

Ryan groans, begging without words for the alarm clock to stop beeping.

Beep, beep, be-

In one swift movement, Ryan does a 180 in his bed and his palm lands on the blinking red button, bringing silence. Ryan stares at his ceiling for a moment. It seems fairly dark outside for 7:30.

Ryan sighs as he sits up in bed. On a normal Saturday, he would have slept until at least nine or so. But today, Ryan had a special appointment with his not-so-favorite teacher, Coach Bolton: Detention.

Ryan's parents had been fairly angry; actually, down right pissed; to find Ryan had gotten his first detention ever. No Evans for three generations had _ever_ gotten a detention before. Not only that, but it was only the second week of school.

'And just what were you thinking when you decided to skip gym?' his mother had exclaimed.

'Were you trying to be cool?' his father joined in.

But no matter how much they yelled or questioned, Ryan would never tell them that he had been skipping every gym class because he was afraid of the jocks. He knew exactly what would happen if he did. His father would march down to the school, scream his lungs out at Coach Bolton, scream his lungs out at the principle, then pull Sharpay and him from school and send them to some private school- in Boston. So instead, he opted for the Saturday detention until he and his guidance counselor could work a change into Ryan's schedule, where he could take the last gym of the day instead of the one before lunch.

Ryan sighs once more before he swings his legs over the edge of the bed and pushes himself out. Ryan hadn't been to a detention before, of course, but Kelsi had been to a few because of missing some of her own classes so she could rehearse with some of the members of the drama club. She told him it was all very boring, that all you had to do was sit in the cafeteria and do your homework from eight to twelve. And if there was anyone else in detention, you could get away with talking because Coach Bolton usually just left you so he could go grade papers or work on new strategies for the basketball team.

But even though he knew it would be a breeze, nothing more than a waste of four hours, Ryan was still upset over something. Nothing school related, or friend related, but family related. This particular Saturday happened to be the one year anniversary of Ryan's grandfather's death, and here he was going to spend it sitting in his school cafeteria studying. Ryan had loved his grandfather dearly, more than most every other of his family members. Ryan's grandfather had been the one who had always encouraged him, believed in him, been there for him; he'd been the only one who'd ever really understood Ryan, even more so than Sharpay.

As soon as he had showered and pulled on his cloths, Ryan was out the door. He knew that his entire family was already up and about, trying to keep busy so they didn't have to think about what day it was. But Ryan knew that the longer he stayed around and watched that, the more he would think about what day it was and the more depressed he would get. So he had to get himself out of the house as soon as possible, even if it meant getting to the school that much earlier; anywhere but home was good.

…_anywhere but home was good._

Or maybe not.

Ryan got to the school at about 7:55, just on time. He entered through the front doors and began making his way to the cafateria.

'Wow,' he thought to himself, 'I've never seen these halls so...empty.'

He passed most of his classrooms, and even a few teachers were there grading papers or preparing lesson plans. Everything was dark though, except for when he passed the office, which was still as busy as ever. Finally he reached the cafateria.

"Coach Bolton?" he said as he entered, looking around. "Coach Bolton, sir?"

"He's in the gym," a voice from overhead said. Ryan looked up to the second level of the cafateria and saw Troy Bolton smiling down on him. "He should be back any second, though I doubt he'll do nothing more than tell you to sit, then leave again. He's pretty grumpy today."

Ryan stood, starring up at Troy, shocked and confused. 'What's Troy doing here on a Saturday? And he's talking to me? Since when do I exist as a living being to him?'

Troy creased his eyebrows. "Ryan? Earth to Ryan, are you in there?"

Ryan shook his head, as if to shake off whatever it was that was keeping him quiet. "Uh, yeah, sorry. Troy, why are you here on a Saturday?"

Troy smiled again. "Same reason as you. I've got a detention."

"_You_ got a detention?" Ryan said. "And from you own dad?"

Troy laughed. "Yup. Pretty sad, isn't it? I missed some classes to practice with Kelsi, and dad got pretty upset. He's been in a bad mood lately since the budget cuts."

Ryan nodded, and continued to stare up at Troy.

After a few moments Troy said, "You know, you could stand down there for the whole detention, or you could come up here and sit with me."

Ryan was speechless. Troy wanted him to sit with him? What was going on here? Ryan's liked Troy for years, since fifth grade, and Troy has never said more than three words to him at a time on the rare occasions he decided to speak to him. Now all of the sudden he wanted to converse and was inviting Ryan to come sit with him? 'He must really be bored,' Ryan decided. He also decided he wasn't about to pass up the chance to sit with him, so he climbed the stairs and sat down a few seats away from Troy.

"So you skipped out, too?" Troy said to Ryan.

Ryan nodded. "Yeah, not to many people are fond of me in that class."

Troy nodded. "I guess not...But they're just jocks; picking on people is the only thing they know how to do, besides play basketball."

They both laugh.

"Uh, but Troy, aren't you a jock?" Ryan said.

Troy shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. But I don't pick on people. I guess the jock crowd is just where I seem to fit in most because of the whole basketball thing."

Ryan nodded. He wasn't really sure what to say.

After a little more conversation, Coach Bolton appeared out of nowhere and told the boys to start working on their homework.

Troy got right to work, Ryan was surprised to see, so he too pulled out his binder. But the more he tried to work, the more he couldn't stop thinking. The more his mind kept flashing back to a year ago. To a funeral home. To a coffin. To a crying family.

Soon Ryan gave up all together and just put his pencil down. He rested his head in his hands and starred out the window, trying to think of something besides the date. He had to keep himself from crying. But the more he tried to do that, the more he felt his eyes getting watery, and soon he felt the first tear slidding down his cheek. He choked back a sob.

"Ryan?" Troy's worried voice broke the silence. "Ryan, what's wrong?"

But Ryan didn't want to answer. He just wanted to be invisible to Troy, like he normally was. He didn't want his crush to see him cry. Anything but that. "Nothing," he managed to say weakly.

But Troy scooted over the seats until he was right next to Ryan, who could see him starring out of the corner of his eye. "Hey, look at me," he said as he turned Ryan's head so that they were starring at each other. "C'mon, tell me what's wrong. Please? I want to help."

Ryan sniffled a little. He felt embarressed, but comforted at the same time. Maybe Troy really did care. "Today...today is the fifteenth."

Troy looked a little confused. "Yeah, but what-"

Ryan cut him off. "A year ago today...my grandfather died."

Troy sat there, looking sad and shocked, but he didn't say anything; he waited for Ryan to keep going.

"He was my best friend, Troy," Ryan said sadly, voice shaking. "He got me. He understood me in ways Sharpay didn't. He was the one who was always there," he fought against more sobs, "I used to spend every summer with him up at the lake he lived on. We used to fish, and swim, and ski, and-" he let out a strangled sob. "And now he's gone." And no longer being able to hold them back, the tears started falling.

Ryan closed his eyes, trying to cease the tears, trying to turn away so Troy couldn't see his face. But his surprise, Troy grabbed his wrist and pulled him into his arms. Before Ryan knew what was happening, he was sitting in Troy's lap with his arms around Troy's neck and his face buried in Troy's shoulder, crying. And Troy was rocking him, and rubbing his back, and stroking his hair. Ryan was so confused, but all he could do was cry.

Finally Troy spoke. He, too, sounded like he was crying. "Ryan, I wish I could do something. I wish I could make the pain stop, I really do. I'm so sad for you. I can't even imagine what it must be like to lose a grandparent. Mine are still alive."

Ryan wanted to tighten his grip around Troy's neck, but he didn't. He couldn't. He was too afraid that Troy was just being a good friend. If he hugged tighter, Troy would know and he'd let go.

But then Troy gently pushed Ryan back a little, so that they were starring at each other. Ryan whiped his eyes with his sleves. "Sorry," he mumbled, and tried to get up. But Troy snaked his arms around Ryan's waist, and held him down. They starred at each other for a moment, then Troy leaned in and brushed his lips against Ryan's. Ryan just sat there and let himself be kissed, too shocked.

Troy blushed, "Sorry."

But Ryan leaned in and brushed his lips against Troy's again. And as he began to pull back, Troy used one of his hands to push Ryan's head closer, keeping their lips together. Troy's tongue slipped into Ryan's mouth, and Ryan felt his own do the same to Troy's. Was this really happening?

Minutes passed like hours before they both slowly pulled away. Troy was smiling, almost grinning, and blushing. "I...I've wanted to do that every day since school started," he said quietly.

Ryan smiled. "Really?"

Troy nodded, smiling.

"So...you weren't just doing it because you felt bad for me?"

Troy shook his head, looking a little hurt. "No, I wouldn't-"

"No, please don't take that the wrong way," Ryan said quickly. "I just meant I never expected you of all people, the East High Playmaker, to-"

"Kiss you, the East High Drama King?" Troy finished with a smile. "Neither did I, until about two weeks ago at the mall."

Ryan laughed a little at the Drama King part. "Troy...is this...what are you...are we..." he couldn't seem to find the right words.

"Am I going to ask you out and be open about it to the whole school?" Troy said. "Even if it means certain ridicule?"

Ryan just held his mouth open before nodding.

"Only if you'll be there for me every step of the way," Troy said with a smile.

Ryan smiled, taking in what he was hearing, "Every step of every day." And he leaned in and brushed his lips against Troy's, as if putting his promise into a physical form.

Troy deepened the kiss and held Ryan close before saying seriously. "Good, because...I'm really going to need you."

Ryan looked at him with all seriousness, "You've got me."

"And you've got me," Troy said with a smile. "But first, how about we get lunch after this. My treat."

Ryan smiled and let the words roll off his tongue, "It's a date."

------

Ok, so what did you think? Sorry it's been so long since I've updated, but I just couldn't think of what to put next. Now, should I end it here? Or add more? Or maybe make a sequel later? Any suggestions are **greatly **appreciated. Well, be sure to review and tell me what you think about the story and what to do next.


	4. As Fate Should Have It

Their relationship wasn't exactly like the little half promise Troy had made in detention; Troy didn't come out to the whole school, didn't face the pending ridicule, and didn't take dating the school gay to the public. At least, he hadn't yet; though he promised he'd work to it. And Ryan wasn't upset, because he had never expected Troy to carry through with what he'd said in the lunchroom, at least not so fast. It wasn't that he was unsure of Troy's feelings, because the Basketball Demigod continued to prove the whole thing was not a prank day after day when the two were alone; it was because he knew what coming out was like, that it didn't happen over night, no matter who you had on your side, no matter how sure you were, how confident.

So far, no one knew. Troy confided he didn't yet want to spill to Gabriella that he'd gotten a boyfriend so soon after they broke up and he'd come out to her, especially when his boyfriend was the first boy he'd actually ever been attracted to, the one that first caused him to realize he was gay. As for Ryan, he really did love his sister, but honestly, asking Sharpay to keep such a huge secret for less than twenty-four hours was just ludicrous. That, and she was still partly "in love" with Troy, even while she had Zeke.

It wasn't the perfect romance, not by a long shot. Troy never surprised Ryan between classes, never snaked his arms around Ryan's waist when he was at his locker, never kissed him just because while they were laughing and hanging out in homeroom. And at least out of school, it was a little different. No, there weren't many public displays of affection that Ryan had always thought would be fun—maybe it was because he thought it would just be nice to know that the rest of the world saw the same things he saw, that it was all real—but even without the PDA, Ryan knew he had it better that most, even by straight standards.

At first, Ryan talked more, which made him feel very awkward sometimes. He talked about his grandfather, and when he was young, and fights with his sister and parents, trips he'd taken, experiences that meant things to him for a number of reasons, and things he wanted to accomplish in life, what he wanted to do for a living, places he wanted to go, people he wanted to meet, et cetera. Troy would listen, nod, comment honestly and appropriately, and never once did he portray anything but deepest sincere interest in everything Ryan had to say. And for a while, Ryan was content, happy that someone finally wanted to listen to what he had to say, someone who he could talk to about anything. There was that, with the added bonus that Troy was giftedly skillful with his tongue.

But after a while, Ryan started to realize just how much he talked, how much Troy listened, and how little he seemed to actually know about his boyfriend. Sure, he knew Troy was definitely sensitive, caring and all that, but what went on in his head, what did he think about? Who was he, really? He came to the weird conclusion that he seemed to be dominating Troy, in a way, which was strange, because when the whole relationship had started, Ryan had figured it would be Troy taking the lead, where they would go, what they would do, when they would do it. That's just the kind of guy Ryan had seen Troy as, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized how much Troy seemed dependant on Ryan as to what went on with them.

And then it made sense. Troy was coming out. He was entering this whole new world of confusion, of uncertainty, of questions and curiosities, and he didn't know what to do; it was a totally new experience. Then, here's Ryan, openly gay for years, he must know all this stuff, right? So how did anything else make sense beyond that Troy felt clueless and in his eyes, Ryan was a Guru?

As soon as this became clear to Ryan, so did the course of action he had to take. The next night Sharpay was out with Zeke, Ryan had Troy over, and for the first time, Ryan was asking questions, and in return was receiving answers, stories, and opinions. At first Troy seemed uncertain of what to say, self-conscious maybe, but the more he talked, the more he got into it, the more he shared and the less he held back. In a way, it reminded Ryan of Troy at basketball practice. Of the few he sneaked in to watch, Ryan had learned that even if Troy learned something from practice, he always started out practice the same way; slow, hesitant, but building in speed, accuracy, and daring. Sort of like a turtle coming out of its shell.

By the end of the night, they were sitting side by side cross-legged on Ryan's bed, each of them was drowsy, and Troy's eyes were starting to get bags. He'd yawned, sighed, and then laughed. "I don't think I've ever talked about myself so much. It almost feels like I wasted your night."  
Ryan smiled and took Troy's hand, interlacing their fingers, but spreading their palms apart so he could trace circles on Troy's palm with his thumb. "I can't think of anything else I'd rather be doing."

As always, Troy blushed and grinned, and then he placed his hand on Ryan's leg. Whenever Ryan said something sweet, Troy got slightly goofy, and this reaction was common for them, a small individual symbol of affection. Tonight, however, the symbol didn't end at a tiny pat. Instead, Troy began a sequence of gentle massage-like squeezes, traveling up and down Ryan's thigh, never going past the kneecap, never traveling too far towards the waist. Ryan moaned out through his nose, exhaled slowly, and then laughed nervously. "That feels…really…nice."

Encouraged, Troy smiled shyly and crawled so he was positioned in front of Ryan, and began to massage both of Ryan's legs. Ryan blushed, forced to lean back on his hands to keep his balance. "Ha ha…this is, uh…slightly awkward." He wasn't sure what made him say it; maybe it was because so soon after talking with Troy about himself, he was finally taking control.

"How so?" Troy smiled innocently. "It's only a massage." He leaned forward and eased Ryan back by his shoulders, till he was lying flat on the bed, then gently flipped him over onto his stomach. Next he sat on Ryan's very lower back, putting his legs on either side of Ryan's side. Then, he eased Ryan's shirt up towards his neck before beginning to knead at the muscles of Ryan's back, around his shoulders, neck, ribs, and lower back.

Though his arms were crossed and his head was buried in his biceps, Ryan could not muffle the moan that escaped his lips. He could feel every muscle in his body loosening up, except for the one that mattered most when you're a boy. Instead, he found himself shifting to accommodate said one muscle's needs.

On top of him, Ryan thought he could feel Troy shifting as well, but for some reason found it doubtful that it was for the same reason as he. Even so, against the odds set in his mind, Ryan hoped that was the reason Troy kept moving on occasion, because even when he knew how dangerous it would be—how he shouldn't think it, much less do it—Ryan had a desperate urge growing within him to fool around with Troy.

But then, what about his parents? True, they were out to dinner, but they could arrive home at any time. And sure, Mrs. Evans was actually elated her son turned out to be gay, and surprisingly enough, Mr. Evans had given his son his full support, under the condition that Ryan actually consider his actions and make sure homosexuality was his final decision—of course, Ryan knew while his father didn't mind a gay son, but he still had wanted grandchildren as well. Besides, you never want your parents to walk in on you doing the do.

Then there was Sharpay. If Zeke had already snuck out the same way she snuck him in, and she was still awake, she could walk in at any minute, and to find the two together was one thing—ever since Twinkle Town, it wasn't uncommon for the actors to be seen together, even at one another's houses, even when they didn't used to be very good friends—but then, to find them _together_ was something else altogether.

Yet, here they were, Ryan now on his back, shirt hanging over the lampshade, Troy straddling Ryan's hips, rubbing around Ryan's neck, shoulders, chest, nipples, ribs, and the very faint outline of abs. While Ryan was still hard, Troy's pants had a bulge, and yet his concentration did not appear to falter has he trailed his fingers gently up and down Ryan's upper body, then kneaded the muscles, and then went back to trailing. Every few minutes, he'd dip his hand under the waist of Ryan's jeans—which were so loose the band was lifted about an inch from Ryan's waist—and trail his fingers just above Ryan's boxers, causing him to arch and press his groin to Troy.

Troy leaned forward, and his erection pressed against Ryan's through their jeans. He continued massaging while he came closer, then whispered in Ryan's ear, "Is…this okay with you?"

Not for the first time that night, Ryan's heart skipped a beat. His whole body shuddered with the combination of Troy's words and the light trailing massage. He managed to whisper out, "Are _you_ sure?"

With a repressed grin, Troy leaned forward the rest of the distance between then and pressed his lips to Ryan's. After only a few seconds, they were joined at their mouths, gasping for air every time they drew back far enough for their lips to cease touching. Before either of them fully realized what was happening, Troy's pants were a pile on the floor, Ryan's jeans were unbuttoned and not zippered, and Ryan was arching his hips in reverse rhythm to how Troy was jerking him off.

Neither of them heard the knock.

What they did hear were two voices, the first high and feminine, the next a deep male voice. "Sorry, Ry, he insisted on—" and "Troy? Buddy, it's time to head ho—"

What they saw was Troy's dad, standing in the doorway, hand still on the knob, mouth half open in the same position it had been when he stopped speaking. Sharpay was behind him, hands over her mouth, eyes wide. She'd probably gasped, but neither of the boys could hear anything above the beats of their own racing hearts.

Everyone froze. Sharpay, after-gasp. Mr. Bolton shocked mid-speechless. Ryan, hands behind his head, keeping himself steady as he was propped against the headboard, mid-pant, sweating, and receiving his first blowjob from his first boyfriend. And then Troy, his eyes wide and focused on his father, one hand gripping his own cock through his underwear, the other one firmly gasping the very bottom of Ryan's shaft, and his mouth engulfing Ryan's cock.

No one really knew much about what happened next, other than that it was loud, fast, and painful. There was shouting, gasps, sobbing, screams, and lots of thuds. The lampshade shattered, the nightstand was overturned, and the wood of the door cracked, and then was hanging by the top hinge. After that, Ryan was a heap on the floor, the Boltons were gone, and Sharpay was sliding down the wall, eyes drooping, fighting for consciousness. She lost.

"Sharpay? Sharpay!"

Zeke fell to his knees, gathering up his girlfriend in his arms. A place on her cheek was darker than the rest of her skin, and she was mumbling in her unconscious state. The room was trashed, and a few yards away, Ryan was stirring. Zeke pushed back Sharpay's hair and started hyperventilating, not sure what to do, and scared beyond all rational thinking. "Oh God. Oh God. Sharpay…Sharpay…Sharpay."

Sharpay moaned. Her eyes started moving behind their lids, and the mumbling turned into moaning. After a moment, her eyes fluttered open, and she took in her surroundings with knitted brows. Then, as she remembered the events of only minutes earlier, she gasped and shot up, only to be held back in Zeke's arms. "Hey, hey, hey. Slowly. You'll get dizzy," he soothed.

She slowed, but her eyes never stopped. They darted around the room, from her brother, to the shards of lampshade, to the door, and around the room again. Her eyes clouded up, and she started huffing out her mouth the way people do when they try not to cry. Then her eyes darted to and settled on Ryan, like she was for the first time realizing he was there. She shoved herself away from Zeke and crawled over to her brother. "Ryan. Ryan? Oh God, Ryan!"

His forehead had a small cut on the side, which was dripping blood down the side of his face, and his neck had a small bruise forming, like the one on Sharpay's cheek. He too was beginning to moan, but his stirring was still slow, like it was more painful than that of Sharpay's injuries. It seemed to make sense, as it was Ryan who'd been receiving the blowjob from the seemingly perfect East High Playmaker.

Without opening his eyes, Ryan spoke. "What happened?" He reached up and massaged at his forehead, only to gasp in pain when he accidentally hit his cut. When he finally opened his eyes and looked up, his eyes grew very sad and he gently brushed Sharpay's bruise. "Oh Sharpay. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry." And he began to cry.

The surprising thing was, Sharpay cried too. She was usually the strong one, the tough one; the slightly scary, fearless one. But now, she took Ryan in her arms, held him close, and they sobbed together, while Zeke grabbed a blanket, draped it around them, and then guided them up off the floor and sat them on the bed. He put his arms around both of them, letting Sharpay rest her head on his shoulder, while Ryan rested his head on hers.

After what seemed like an hour, Sharpay could cry no more. Ryan, however, was still sobbing, even though it was growing weaker. She patted his head soothingly, rubbing his back, and whispered, "Tell me everything."


	5. Wounds Cleansed With Salt

The school was uneasily quiet come Monday. It didn't seem like anyone was really off, the air didn't feel thick with tension, like anyone was being worn away by the events that had come to pass over the weekend. But for some reason, the gossiping seemed softer, the laughter felt in shorter supply, and it appeared no one was moving anymore than they had to, thought that part wasn't uncommon; it just made the situation feel worse.

They tried to enter like there was nothing different, but Sharpay was pretty sure it was obvious there was something wrong. She clenched Zeke's hand and had an itching worry her makeup would be disturbed at any moment, if it had not been so already. Zeke was obviously nervous, but only for Sharpay's sake—he was still worried about her. He was a good boyfriend, and what good boyfriend wouldn't be worried in this situation? And as for Ryan, he just slouched behind them, hands in his pockets, eyes on the ground, shuffling his feet as he continued his lapdog routine to his sister. He tried all he could to concentrate on something of little importance, trying to keep himself from actually thinking, from staying so worried. But then, he was a good boyfriend, too.

It was decided they'd tell no one. Sharpay and Zeke had felt differently, but Ryan was still very worried about Troy, and wanted no reason for them to be separated, which was a possibility if the police became involved. Besides, they couldn't just go and tell some random person what had happened. Aside from the few bruises, which could have happened in dozens of different ways, they had no other evidence; there was no real evidence without Troy.

In the end it was concluded they could handle it themselves. After Ryan had finished his story, starting from detention, and Sharpay had assured him she was only upset he hadn't told her sooner—though she would not deny being slightly jealous later, after Zeke had been snuck out—they disposed of anything broken, put the door up on its hinges—they'd call about getting a replacement later—and then applied at gracious amount of cover up to their bruises. The worst part was that, all weekend, Troy hadn't called, or made any kind of contact, and Ryan was beginning to feel as depressed as he was worried; no more smile to reassure Sharpay that the world wasn't all that bad. She'd lost an unknown safety net, and she felt naked without it; it felt so wrong she hurt.

Inside, they were greeted by the usual group, which was composed of a couple of Zeke and Troy's teammates giving high fives, and a small group of drama kids, Kelsi included. Some gave the trio hugs, and even many of the Jocks gave Ryan back pats; in no time at all, people seemed to have accepted him after years of ridicule, all because Troy hung out with him and Sharpay.

Once they were on their way to homeroom, Ryan fell back in place behind his sister, while everyone else chatted and continued on with their lives. He wanted so bad to make pretend that everything was okay, but how could he? In one night, he may have lost everything that he and Troy had risked working for, all because of their stupid hormones! He couldn't slip into character this time, even when Sharpay kept up her appearance of being a fearless Queen Bee, waving to friends as they passed, smile firmly in place. He hoped that maybe, no one noticed. Maybe the rest of the world was as oblivious as the group was nervous.

Then Gabriella showed up. Ryan could feel it coming, and he desperately hoped she would keep her mouth shut. If she said his name, he knew he'd go from the bottom of the hill, through the crust of the earth. He prayed she would keep quiet, but at the back of his mind, he knew something was coming, and he could barely brace himself for impact.  
The greeting was normal. Gabby happily chatted small talk with Sharpay, arranged for voice practice in the choir room later in the week with Kelsi, and asked Zeke about his newest concoction, always the supportive one. When she got to Ryan, they smiled and traded hellos, and even did air kisses on each other's cheeks—_A first_, Ryan thought to himself, slightly surprised.

Nothing was out of place until, "Hey, Ry, have you heard from Troy? I haven't seen him all weekend." And Ryan stopped, and tensed up. A Jock boy nodded his agreement. "Yeah, me neither. You guys seem pretty tight now a day. Know where he's at?"

"No," Ryan mumbled, shoving past them all. He began fast walking to homeroom away from the group, most of who were stunned motionless. God he hated that he had to be so immature about it, so very Drama King, as Troy would say. It wasn't that he was meaning to be so moody and distant about it, but he couldn't help but get angry about it. No one could really understand what he was going through, least of all Gabriella, and here she was, unknowingly rubbing salt in the figurative wound. Sharpay, as always, was the only one who could come close to understanding him, and that was only because she'd actually been there, actually suffered some of what he'd had to.

Sharpay, Zeke, Kelsi, and Gabriella all picked up pace and caught up to him, and Sharpay tried to take his arm. He pushed her away. Dramatic as he knew it must seem, she just couldn't walk in his shoes. Not this time. No one could really understand, no matter how much he wished they could. Something's just couldn't be helped, not even by someone as close as a twin. The only person Ryan felt would really understand was the one person he was most upset over.

"Um, Ry?" Gabrielle ventured tenderly. "Are you…alright?"

"Fine," he said briskly. Shut up, shut up, shut up. God, how could it be this difficult just to keep cool?

Gabriella sighed, her frown showing how deeply concerned she was. Why the hell did she have to _care_ so much? "Did I say something?" She meant well, but not all the world thought talking could solve everything. So she was practically East High's goddamn Peace Core, that didn't mean sharing and caring chased away the Hell of high school, of being gay.

Was that what it all came down to? Being gay? Maybe. If it weren't for being gay, this would have never happened. If one of them had just been born a girl or something, and they'd still fallen for each other, things would be different. But no. Ryan knew he couldn't just blame his sexuality. The fact of the matter was that he was a boy, he was gay, and because of it, with Troy he'd been the happiest he'd ever been before in his whole life.

"No," he answered, voice now leveling to monotone. The least he could do was try and sound somewhat civil.

"Gabby, I don't think—" Sharpay started, but for once, the diva was cut off. Under normal circumstances, she would have lashed out physically without a second thought, but today, she was just too weary.

"Ryan, please tell me what's wrong," Gabriella pleaded. "I only asked if you'd seen Troy—"

Ryan stopped dead and spun around to her, causing Gabriella to take a step back. "And I told you, _no_!" he boomed. He glared at her, huffing, eyes burning, before storming away. There. He'd known it was coming. As much as he tried to avoid it, it had happened, and at least it was now done.

Sharpay and Zeke hurried after him, but Gabriella just stood, soaking in all that had just happened. She knew something was up with Ryan. Who wouldn't? He was always the good guy, the _great_ guy. Part of her, the part that wasn't still in love with Troy, had always hoped Ryan would fall for he ex, and that they could be together, because she knew they'd be close to perfect for one another.

It took a few minutes of standing in the middle of hallway traffic, but after a few minutes, a plan formed in her head, and she marched off to homeroom; Sharpay wouldn't hide from her, but getting the information from her would be another thing entirely.

Sharpay ducked into the gym. She was huffing, gasping for air, her hair puffing up to twice it's normal size, and her skirt twisted half way around her waist, so the back was on one of her hips and the front on the other. Putting a hand to her chest, she leaned again the bleachers and sighed as she regained her breath.

For the past three days, she'd been doing everything in her power to avoid Gabriella. She'd even jumped into the boys' bathroom just earlier yesterday, though the sudden entrance of a female with her body into a room full of bodies with dicks wasn't very detested by the majority.

But why was she going through so much trouble to avoid her friend? Not long after the Gabriella/Ryan incident, Zeke had caught Sharpay between classes to let her know that the once timid science geek was hunting her down. With a bit more persuasion—just a little trick of playing with his hands a few inches from her cozy bundles of cleavage—she found Gabriella had confided within her boyfriend—as well as Taylor—that she had the suspicion there was a little more going on between the Playmaker and Sharpay's brother than they were letting on to the public, and that that was why her twin freaked. So of course, not wanting to betray her sibling, Sharpay had been playing hide-and-stay-hidden with Gabby until Troy arrived and she could talk it out with the lovebirds. But there was a tiny problem—

Three days had gone by, and still no Troy.

The situation wasn't favorable, to say the least of the least. Half the school was falling over themselves with worry for the basketball star, even if it wasn't all for the same reason. Sure, Troy was probably the nicest guy in the entire school—maybe the entire school district—and yes, just about everyone was his friend, but that group of everyone's didn't all always have pure intentions. Sharpay knew that at one time, she'd been amongst a group of girls who were play easy to get for the boy, and some kids simply wanted him to make baskets.

Then there was, of course, Ryan, who'd stopped eating the second day he'd arrived at school to find Troy was still missing. He'd been slouching around, spacing off in class, and skipping gym all together; not that Sharpay couldn't blame him, as she now liked to spend said class period camped out backstage of the auditorium. Sharpay knew if things didn't turn around, or at least up, fast, people were going to start talking about the Evans twins too, and that was the very last thing any of them needed right now.

Finally, Sharpay stopped sweating and she dabbed at her moist neck and chest with the scarf she had around her neck. "God, I can't keep this up. Troy Bolton, where the fuck are you?"

"Here." The familiar voice echoed through the gym, even when the voice sounded flat and tired, with no feeling in the single word. Sharpay spun around and saw Troy slugging across the gym from a room with a small amount of light seeping from the door held ajar by a hockey puck shoved underneath it, the room Sharpay knew to be as Coach Bolton's office.

Troy was holding a basketball under one arm, and was carrying his backpack with the other, and seemed to be looking straight ahead without really seeing anything. The only emotion he showed came from his eyes, which were clouded; it was clear he was definitely feeling something, but just what that might be was a mystery to Sharpay.

In a flurry of movement, beginning with the dropping of Sharpay's jaw, the girl closed the remaining distance between them and threw her arms around the boy's neck, huffing all over again. For a moment she felt a wave of temptation, but quickly dismissed it, for Ryan's sake. Instead, she simply squeezed him. "Oh my God, Troy! Where have you been?"

It took him a moment to answer, like his brain needed extra time to process her words. "Home," he said simply. He wasn't trying to hug her back, wasn't even readjusting his bag or the basketball held in place by his armpit. When she stepped away, he showed no relief, nor any sign that he cared either way that she had showed any sign of affection towards her close friend.

Sharpay wanted to slap him. Plain and simple, she wanted to throw her hand back past her head and then slam it forward, across the boy's cheek. He was acting like he didn't care about all the thoughts that he must know were going through her head, all the ideas she'd had about why he hadn't returned to school. Who the hell just stood there? It was like when someone dropped their books in the hallway, and instead of stopping and trying to help them, stepping on the scattering papers like the person and their things didn't exist; and that was so _not_ Troy Bolton. "Is that all you're going to say? 'Home'? Damn it Troy, you better start talking, _now_."

A clacking sound filled the room, the sound of the gym door slipping back into place. Troy's eyes darted to something behind Sharpay, and for the first time since she'd seen him, his face contorted with emotion; a sort of sad, repressed glee and giddiness. When she turned around, she saw her brother staring blankly at the both of them, mouth open slightly. She heard Troy speak. "Ry…"

Troy brushed Sharpay's shoulder as he passed her hurriedly, looking back over his shoulder and across the gym. Sharpay followed his eyes to the door she figured he must have entered from, but saw nothing. When she looked back, Ryan had his arms tightly around Troy, who at least returned the hug, however restricted it appeared to Sharpay. She stood and watched, her arms crossed over her chest, as Troy guided Ryan back a few steps away and began to whisper something. Every few seconds, he would glance toward Sharpay—or maybe the office over her shoulder—and then look away. Ryan would interject every few sentences, but all Sharpay could see from her angle were his lips moving. After a few minutes, Troy again glanced at Sharpay, then at the office door, and then leaned forward, looking daring and timid, and kissed Ryan's cheek. Then he turned and walked out of the gym.

Confused yet again in the short period of 72 hours, Sharpay marched up to Ryan, who had his head turned towards the door, but bowed so he couldn't see it. She stood close to him, expectantly, she hoped, but when he said nothing, she sighed out, "Well?"

Ryan sighed. She could hear him biting his lip, and he twisted at his sleeve with one of his crossed arms, seeming stressed. He turned his head to her, and she saw a few tears making a slow journey down his cheeks. Before she could ask, he choked out, "He dumped me," and then turned on his heel and marched out of the gym with monster steps.

In a complete state of utter shock _again_ in the past 72 hours, Sharpay stood frozen on the spot. Dumped? _Dumped_? Troy fucking Bolton had _dumped_ her brother? "Oh, _Hell_ no." Immediately, out of habit, a plan began developing in her head, something involving lots of playgirl magazines, Troy's locker combination, a dildo, other assorted sex toys, and Troy's public humiliation. But then Sharpay heard a sound that caused her to turn her head—a small chuckle. She looked in the direction Troy had appeared from, to his father's office on the other side of the gym. Coach Bolton was just then turning away, closing the door behind him, face smug, and a mad grin just visibly playing on his lips.


	6. Just Concerned, Soon to be Scorned

Okay, so I reposted the last two chapters after I went through and found I'd missed a few errors... I hope I got everything, but if not, please let me know!  
Hope you enjoy !

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The science lab was cold. It always had been. The air conditioning was always on the fritz, over exaggerating the coolness of fall, creating an arctic circle in the winter, halting the warming air in the spring, and creating a fall effect in the summer. The students of East High had grown accustomed to it and found their own little ways to fight it—lab code appropriate shirts and jackets stashed in their lockers—but that didn't make the bite go away. Kind of like how you can try to ignore that a friend is ignoring you, but that doesn't make the hurt go away.

Whenever she was upset for any reason, and going home early wasn't an option, Gabriella liked to sneak to either the old, unused music classroom up on the second floor—the one she and Kelsi and Troy had used for Twinkle Town audition practices—or she would make her way to the science lab, where, when the teacher allowed her to stay, as he did often, she would scurry around making little concoctions to keep herself busy. Today was no difference, other than that she'd forgotten the jacket, and so she was starting to feel two different kinds of bite.

_Clunk_, the science lab door connected with one of the numerous small islands around the room, a flaw in the design that they didn't place the door just a few more feet to the left during the building. The _clack, clack, clack_ sound of heels filled the room, and Gabriella sighed irritably; of course, right when she stopped looking, her target found her. "What, Sharpay?" She didn't turn around.

The clacking stopped. An indignant huff sounded behind her. "Yeah, hello to you too, Gab. Gawd, I thought you were looking for me?"

Gabriella spun around to face Sharpay, who was standing just a foot or so away. She rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. How could Sharpay live with herself, always trying to make it like she was the victim? "Yeah, Sharpay, I _was_. And you avoided me. So why are you here? Shouldn't you be having your lackey spit-shine your heels?"

She didn't even see her hand fly back, but Gabriella sure did feel Sharpay's hand connect with the side of her cheek. The blow had redirected her line of sight, but she heard the fury in Sharpay's voice. "Don't you _ever_ talk about Ryan like that; now when I'm around, not ever. You hardly even _know_ him; you have no right to criticize him _at all_. You don't know him, you don't know what he's been through, so back the hell off. Now if you retract your fucking claws, so will I. I came here to talk, and I've been told you want to hear it."

In a way, Gabriella felt like an abused puppy, cowering in front of her master; almost like she was confused as to why she'd been punished, even when she knew she deserved it. Sharpay's words were passionate, and there was no doubt in her mind that they were true. It made her feel guilty that she'd gone so low as to attack Ryan, who she definitely liked more than she like Sharpay, and who'd never done anything to deserve her criticism.

But then Gabriella pulled herself together, because even while she liked Sharpay, and even while she knew she'd gone a step to far without any acceptable reason, she could find the other girl to be a dictator, and Gabriella was not going to bow down against her will. She straightened up and looked Sharpay directly in the eye. "Deal. So talk."

The first words out of Sharpay's mouth were, "You were right about Ryan and Troy." The feeling of superiority and happiness brought upon by those seven words warmed her chilly body, but the feeling was gone just as quickly as it had come when Sharpay dived into the rest of the story—how Mr. Bolton showed up while Sharpay was having alone time with Zeke; how she'd unintentionally helped Mr. Bolton walk in on the two boys having their own alone time; how Ryan had spilled everything to Sharpay about how he and Troy got together; then how Troy had broken Ryan's heart, and how Sharpay suspected it was against his will.

Gabriella took everything in like a sponge. It was like another slap in the face. Part of her was upset that Troy really was gay, part was awing over the image of how cute a couple she thought—_knew_—Troy and Ryan would make—well, made—and the rest of her, and very big rest of her, was shocked, confused, and furious that Mr. Bolton would do such a thing to the two of them, from the beating to the break up. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized Mr. Bolton had never even really liked _her_, and the less surprised at him she became. "So you think Mr. Bolton made Troy break up with Ry?"

Sharpay rolled her eyes. "Well, _duh_." She had her arms crossed, and was nibbling lightly at her thumbnail; Gabriella suspected the drama queen was simply nervous that she might be caught in such a loser populated place. Gabriella would have retorted, but Sharpay was quick with her mouth. "The thing is, I think we both know Troy well enough that there was a large amount of _persuasion _from Bolton Senior's part to get his son to dump my brother."

It took a few moments for Gabriella to realize what Sharpay was hinting at. She gasped. Abuse? As in, fists and heavy, blunt objects, abuse? Would Mr. Bolton actually go so far…? "You really think—?"

Sharpay shrugged sadly. "There's only one way to find out."

Gym class—Chad's favorite. It was the one class he excelled in, and enjoyed doing so, and one of the only times where it was really okay to show off. He loved everything about the concept of playing every game and not for the first time showing that he only lost if it benefited him more than winning; that would be, never.

But today, he had a mission, and he had a feeling if worse came to worse, he wouldn't be hanging around for too much of class. The overall picture was still pretty fuzzy to him because Sharpay and Gabby had been very selective with the details, but at the moment, Chad couldn't bring himself to care; what he did know was that, for whatever the reason may be, the girls believed Troy might be in trouble, and when it came to protecting his best friend, he knew details could be collected later. What shocked him was they suspected it was because of Coach Bolton; the man was tough, but abuse? Chad guessed it must be an unreleased detail.

Honestly, there were two reasons Chad was really buying into the whole thing—(a) Taylor supported Gabs 110 and (b) the only time Chad had seen Troy since his return from his mysterious Houdini disappearing act, was in second period, the only class besides gym and homeroom they had together. Troy and Chad were almost always together when they were in the halls; and when they weren't, Chad was with Taylor, while Troy was with Ryan.

_Click_.

Chad stopped, and the hamster in his head started turning the wheels. Troy and Chad seemed to always seemed to mirror one another, so if Ryan was Troy's equivalent to Taylor, the beta when the two weren't together—at least on school grounds—then could that mean Troy and Ryan were—?

"Troy!" Chad quickly dismissed the slightly scary, more than slightly sensible, idea from his head when the East High Playmaker came within his line of vision, heading towards the locker rooms, in the midst of the crowd of his peers heading across the gym. He called out his best mate's name and did a half jog around his classmates to catch up with the school star.

Troy didn't stop, but he looked back over his shoulder for a moment. He made eye contact with Chad, and then promptly turned his head back and continued walking. Chad, confused, picked up his pace and caught Troy just before he entered into the boys' locker rooms.

"Dude, what's up? Where've you been all day?" Chad tried to sound casual, but the look in Troy's eyes when they'd made eye contact was sort of scary; anxious, nervous, upset. Those weren't emotions Chad was very used to seeing from his best friend. And the way it seemed Troy had just tried to ignore him was sort of paining within itself.

His face scrunched up in what Chad figured out only moments later to be anger when Troy hissed out, "I really wish people would stop asking me that. Just leave me alone."

As Troy pushed his way past, it took Chad a moment to recover. What the fuck had just happened? Troy actually said that? Yes, he firmly decided. Something's definitely wrong with him. Chad spun around and jogged through the locker room, back up to Troy. "Dude, wha—"

"I said just _leave me alone_!" Troy bellowed, his body trembled, and for a second Chad was reminded of a child being forced to give something up, something it really wanted. Troy looked so strained; Chad knew the words were being forced. But even so, people were staring, so Chad just nodded, backed up, and walked out; it was time to collect the details.


	7. She Stands Stong as a Stone

**Okay, this was quickly edited because I'm on my way out to see a movie. I know, not very professional, but bare with me. As always, alert me of any errors you spot, and always, R&R!!** **Enjoy.**

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Mr. Clark's bathroom pass had gum on it. Actually, just about 75 of the thing was covered in squished up, stale pieces of chewing gum. Sharpay cringed as she held the wooden, two-dimensional apple out in front of her by its stem. She was only willing to tolerate the unsanitary slice of maple because feigning female problems was a much better option than sitting through Clark's theories. 

Just as she was about to push open the large swinging door of the girls' bathroom, someone called Sharpay's name. After turning in just about every other direction she finally spotted Chad coming at her from the wing that was the fastest route to the gym. What could he want? She hadn't expected him to gather the news so quickly, let alone skip out of his favorite class just to get the information to her. She waited as patiently as she could, tapping her foot lightly.

The closer he got, the more irritated he appeared, until finally Sharpay realized he didn't look very happy at all, and that it wasn't just her imagination telling her so. When he got within talking distance, he stopped and folded his arms, looking at her expectantly. Sharpay sighed. "If you have a question or something, hurry up and ask it. I have to use the facilities, as you might be able to tell." She pointed over her shoulder at the door, forcing a smile.

"The sooner you start talking, the sooner you can go piss," he all but hissed at her.

Sharpay was so taken aback; she had to very much resist the urge to smack him just like she'd smacked Gabriella only a few periods earlier. Instead, she just settled on sending him daggers with her eyes. She sighed. "I take it things with Troy didn't go very well?"

Chad laughed. "I thought he was gonna try and hit me! What the hell is going on, Sharpay? Because whatever it is, he knows we're trying to figure it out, or if you already have it all figured, he knows we're trying to help him. Just what is going on with him and his dad and how did you find out?"

Defeated, Sharpay sighed. She could tell by Chad's defiant tone that he wasn't about to drop it, and even if she could accomplish getting him off the topic, she knew he wasn't about to spy for her without more information. "Are you sure you wanna know? Cause this is sort of like matrix crap. I can't just give you some stuff, and then have you decide you don't like it and back out. In for a quarter, in for a pound."

For a moment, it looked like a flick of doubt flashed across Chad's face. Sharpay doubted he would actually go through with it. As much as she knew he cared for Troy, she also knew that Chad was just a guy, and, like all guys, she knew he found ignorance to be bliss. Of course he would back out. But then he nodded solemnly and stood on, still looking expectant. Chalk one up for Danforth.

Sharpay shrugged, signaling to him, _It's your funeral_. "Alright. I'm not gonna go into major details, but here's the just of it; Ryan and Troy have been seeing each other. As in, hand holding, kissing, boyfriend and boyfriend kind of thing. I didn't know anything about it until I showed Mr. Bolton up to Ryan's room, where we walked in on the two in the midst of... extreme intimacy. Bolton senior totally freaked, beat the hell out of Troy, and slapped Ryan and I around in between for good measure. Earlier this morning Troy showed up and dumped Ryan, with Mr. Bolton within good hearing distance. Over all, Troy's dad is basically beating him straight."

Chad gave the predicted reaction. He stood, looking unphased, but probably would not have responded had Sharpay done anything from ask a question to slap him across the face. It took almost a minute for him to manage, "You're shitting me. Right?"

"Yes, she is." The deep, angry voice sent chills all through Sharpay's body. She didn't have to turn around to know who was shuffling slowly towards her. It took all she had in her to pull on a confident face when she turned to face him.

Coach Bolton had his arms crossed over his chest, and was chewing at his bottom lip. Something must have been funny, maybe the way Sharpay looked at him, because after a moment he laughed. Then his eyes darted to Chad. "I honestly hope you didn't believe any of that, Mr. Danforth. Now get back to class." Chad mumbled something along the lines of 'Yes, sir' and hurried past them, eyes downcast. Just as Chad was about to turn the corner, Coach Bolton yelled over his shoulder, "And Mr. Danforth? You'll be staying after school to run laps today. Five miles. Be at my office by 3:20."

When Chad had gone, neither of them spoke. Sharpay guessed it was probably to make sure no one was in hearing distance. The longer the silence prevailed, the more nervous she got, though she tried her hardest not to show it. If she failed, Mr. Bolton portrayed nothing of it, because the smirk never left his lips. "Look, Evans. I don't think you get exactly what you're playing in here. But what you should know is that Troy is my son. And I'm not gonna have _my_ son blow _everything_—his chance at a scholarship, his chance to be something, his fucking life—just because he's hormonal enough to suck cock between girlfriends. So you listen to me," He stepped over a line Sharpay didn't think he was crazy enough to cross when he grabbed the front of her shirt and shoved her up against a locker, "You are gonna back off, you understand? It's not my problem if you don't care about your brother enough to let him live that way. But you sure as hell aren't gonna drag my son into it. He's normal, and he's gonna stay normal."

He shoved off when he let go of her shirt, knocking the wind out of her. While she coughed, holding a hand to her chest, eyes watering, he gave her one last threatening glare before heading off in the direction of the gym. Only when he'd gone did Sharpay allow her knees to buckle, causing her to slide down the wall. She put both arms around her knees and cried into the end of her skirt, and then sat in stunned silence until the end of the period, trying to figure out what she should do next_  
_

* * *

_Home at last_. Even Ryan's mental voice sounded as miserable as he felt. His body ached for no reason, his sides throbbing, his hands tender, and his muscles in knots. What he wouldn't give for one of Troy's massages...

After Troy dumped him abruptly in the gym, the day had passed surprisingly fast. He figured it was probably due to the fact that he paid no attention in classes whatsoever, but instead thought about the short time he'd had dating Troy, and then the strange break up earlier in the day.

_"I know I probably sound really corny right now, Ryan, but I don't care, because I'm telling the truth. I've been happier these past few weeks with you than I've been doing anything else; than playing basketball, than acting in the play. You just, you make me really happy, Ryan."_

_"Is something wrong, Troy? I mean... you're telling me all this. And it's making me feel nervous. There's something wrong, isn't there?"_

_"I... I can't see you anymore. It's just too hard right now. I just wanted you to know that it isn't you... you've been so much to me lately. It isn't you. I love you."_

And then he leaned over and kissed Ryan before walking out.

All day, all Ryan could think about were Troy's words, Troy's lips, and the pulsing feeling that when his parents' bedroom light went out, he'd hear soft, undistinguishable singsong words floating in through his window before Troy himself climbed through. He expected it so much; it was so routine, that even when he knew it wasn't going to happen, that as he flopped down on his bed upon entering his room, his eyes drifted to the open window, where his gaze held firm against his will.

The new door to Ryan's bedroom drifted open. When the old one had been replaced, the hinges had been well oiled, so the only reason Ryan knew the door had been opened was because it lightly hit his desk whenever opened to far.

Someone sat on the edge of the bed, his or her weight tilting the mattress just so Ryan had to turn to keep from rolling. A hand ran through his hair, and for a brief moment, he almost felt hope, because the fingers brushed through his hair the way Troy used to toy with the locks. But the more the hand moved, the more deflated his hope became, because he knew who it wasn't. "Hey, sis," he exhaled sadly.

Sharpay matched his sigh and pulled herself up onto the bed so she could snuggle up next to Ryan. It felt like forever since they'd used to do this, when either of them was upset or anxious. In fact, the last time Ryan could recall the fading ritual being performed, was the night before they entered high school. He missed feeling close to her.

"He used to come in through the window, didn't he?" Her voice was empathetic, and she didn't wait for an answer. "I remember one night about a week ago, I thought I heard something hit the side of the house. But when I looked out the window, I didn't see anything at first, and I just told myself I was imagining things. Then I thought I saw something go behind a tree across the street. It was fast... so I wasn't sure... but it was him, wasn't it?"

Ryan nodded just enough so she knew it was his answer. His eyes felt hot and itchy, but he couldn't cry; if there were any tears, they would have been shed in the bathroom he'd retreated to earlier in the day. Why he couldn't cry, he didn't want to admit he knew. But it was because, in the way Troy had said goodbye, it didn't feel like it was really over. And so, Ryan knew he couldn't cry until that fact registered in his brain, and then all the pending tears would fall, and it would be worse than if he'd been caught sobbing in the guys' bathroom at East High.

"I still feel like he's just waiting for all the lights to go out," he heard himself whisper. He was gripping lightly at Sharpay's hand, pulling her closer. "It's like half of me thinks he's still gonna climb in, just after dark."

"You guys did a Romeo and Juliet?" The voice wasn't Sharpay's. It was deep and slightly high on some words, like it was about to crack. "Please. Cliché is so last month." A moment later, a dark hand gripped the windowsill, then it's twin, and just after that, Chad pulled himself completely through the open window. When he was standing up straight, he spread his arms and grinned. "I know, not who you were expecting, but you're about to love me just as much."

Sharpay sat up, looking confused, her head tilted. "But I thought Bolton made you stay after to run laps?" She seemed to be completely ignoring Chad's last comment, which was completely unlike her; Ryan knew that under normal circumstances, she would have sent him a warning kick in the gut. He guessed these weren't normal circumstances.

Chad laughed. "He told me to stay after to run laps. That doesn't mean I have to obey. I know he's gonna keep me for an extra hour or two come practice tomorrow, but I thought this might be worth it, seeing as how if things work out right, there won't be a practice tomorrow." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a tiny, thin, digital camera, turned it on, and tossed it to Sharpay. "From the locker rooms."

Once she started flipping through the pictures, Sharpay's look of confusion and slight annoyance disappeared; her mouth fell open and her eyes got wider. Ryan leaned over to get a look, and only became confused. They were shots of a rib cage, only with purple blotches spread through out. There were also some pictures of a back with a couple greenish looking bruises that made Ryan cringe. Only when he saw the full body shot did it all click in Ryan's brain; it was Troy. They had picture of Troy's bruises, proof that he was being abused—evidence to turn in.

"He was off where no one could see him changing," Chad said, a hint of remorse evident in his tone. "I had to sneak over to take them."

Ryan only nodded, almost smiling he was so elated, when he heard the grin in Chad's voice. "Wanna do the honors, Ryan?" Ryan looked up, and Chad was twirling a cell phone with his thumb and pointer finger by its antenna. Then he tossed it up in the air, and Ryan caught it, eyes glued to it like it was some sort of Holy Grail.

Sharpay egged him on. "I don't think Principal Donald has left yet. We have to talk to her first. If you hurry..."

Ryan was way ahead of her. He called to place an appointment for that afternoon. When they asked if it could wait until the following afternoon—a rhetorical question meaning Donald is on her way out and refuses to take your call—Ryan told the receptionist that one of the students was suffering abuse from a teacher. A quick rustling noise, and Donald's' squeaky voice was put on. Bingo.


	8. Happily Ever Afters Don't Come Cheap

Troy's head was throbbing. Not just the annoying little _bump, bump, bump_ along with his heartbeat, but a full out pounding sensation that only subsided when he held his breath; and when he finally needed to inhale, the pounding would just increase. The bouncing of the car every time it so much as went over a crack in the road wasn't helping matters.

Just after school had let out, Troy had, as always, headed to his dad's office to wait for a ride home. It had started out fine, or as fine as could be expected when Troy was mentally setting his father on fire. He hated his father so much, that that combine with the confusion and stress of all that had happened in the past few days, drove him into a strange kind of silence and recessive mood that he couldn't explain.

Then his dad had started asking strange questions about Chad and Sharpay, and before he knew what was happening, Troy was on the floor holding his jaw where his father had just slugged him. And then he was up against the wall, where his father was practically spitting while he talked, he was so furious.

_"You tell your fucked up friends they better back off, Troy, or it'll be hell for the _both_ of us."_

Then his father had told Troy he'd better hurry or he'd miss his bus. Troy hadn't taken the bus since he was in middle school, but what was he to do? His father had some sudden control over him, some weird influence. It didn't matter that, if needed, Troy probably could have fought back, probably could have won. All that mattered was that, his dad struck and ordered, and Troy bruised and obeyed. So Troy left his father's office to take one of the school buses home, with a pounding head that never quite went away.

Of course, it was only thirty-five minutes later that his mother had answered the phone, nodded thoughtfully, then hung up and told Troy to get in the car, because they needed to get to East High. Ten minutes later, and they were pulling into East High's parking lot, with Troy's head still pounding. He wasn't exactly sure what was happening—he would later realize he was hardly in the thinking, rationalizing condition—but as the exited his mother's SUV, it seemed to register in his brain that something wasn't normal about all that was happening. His mother put her hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze that made Troy nervous.

"Why are we here, mom?" Troy tried to keep his voice casual, apathetic. "Does dad need help with something?"

Troy's mom took a minute to answer as they walked across the parking lot, her face not portraying of any emotions. Then she nodded. "Yes, Troy, I think he might."

When they entered the building, Troy noticed the halls were unusually empty. On a normal day, there would be at least a few people moving about, do to clubs and sports, maybe running errands for teachers or something. But now, lights were on in the halls and in classrooms, but there was no one around. This made Troy even more nervous. What was going on?

When they got to the stairs, where four hallways came together, instead of taking the right to the gym, Troy's mother steered him left, and before he could question her, she had brought him into the main office. When they entered, the secretary looked up from a photocopier, smiled warmly, and walked over to her desk, where she pressed a button and said, "Mr. Vanderson? They're here. I'm sending them in."

When she took her finger off the button, a moment later a voice came on. "Excellent. Thank you, Margie." Another smile and a nodded later, and Troy's mother was leading him down a side hall in the main office, to where the offices of the staff who didn't teach were located.

"Mom," Troy whispered nervously as they got closer and closer to the last office of the hall, "why are we going to see the guidance counselor? I thought you said dad need help with something?"

His mother just nodded and patted his hand, trying to give a reassuring smile. "Yes, honey, he does. And I think you might, too. Just wait. Everything will be fine." And before Troy could protest or ask any other questions, they reached the door, which opened upon their arrival. Troy's father's voice flooded out to meet them.

"Look, Daniel, why am I here? I'm sure you've got plenty of work to do right now, I know I do. What exactly is this about? What's so important?" Bolton Senior's voice was higher than normal, like he was as nervous as Troy was. He kept looking around the room, from Mr. Vanderson to two men and a woman who sat in chairs up against the wall from him. "Who are they?"

As Troy and his mother stepped in, Mr. Vanderson's eyes fell on them, with the eyes of the strangers. When he realized they were all looking past him, Mr. Bolton turned in his chair to look. His eyebrows knitted. "What is this?"

Mr. Vanderson stepped forward with a warm smile and shook Troy and Mrs. Bolton's hands. "Please, please, have a seat!" He motioned to two empty chairs in front of his desk, near where Mr. Bolton was sitting. When everyone was sitting, Mr. Vanderson moved forward to occupy the space between Mr. Bolton and his family.

"Now, I'm sure you're very curious as to why I've asked you here." He spoke in the direction of the Bolton family, not to the strangers against the wall. "Just earlier, Ms. Daniels brought me some pictures brought forward by an anonymous persons, pictures we're very concerned about..." He paused, both of his lips sucked inward, and then continued. "The evidence is very strong, I'm sad to say. But we thought we would give you all a chance to put in your... your sides of the story."

"What. Story?" Mr. Bolton's voice was low and huffy. "What is going on here, Daniel?"

Mr. Vanderson gave Mr. Bolton a sad look, and then turned to Troy. Up until that point Troy had simply stopped thinking, and had been observing everything mindlessly. When Mr. Vanderson looked to him, and his mother grabbed his hand, Troy began to feel very nervous again.

"Troy," Vanderson began softly, "you father... he doesn't ever... Does he ever... hurt you?"

Troy's father shot out of his chair. "What?!" he bellowed.

"Mr. Bolton, please, sit down," Vanderson said calmly, holding his hands out. "Just settle down." Troy's dad said something about not settling down, but Vanderson spoke above him, attention back to Troy. "Does your father ever hurt you, Troy? Has he ever hit you before?"'

While his father began to shot louder and make strange motions with his arms, Troy's breathing quickened and became shallower. He watched as the strangers rose from their chairs and attempted to calm his father down. Vanderson kept his eyes on Troy, as if trying to read him of an answer.

Troy's mother squeezed his hand, trying to be supportive, and leaned over. "Answer the question, honey," she whispered encouragingly. "You could even just nod... Please honey."

The area behind Troy's eyes began to get warm, and his vision started clouding. His breathing kept becoming shallower, and soon he was almost hyperventilating. Summoning up his strength, he wanted to shake his head. But he nodded.

"TROY!" his father bellowed, trying to move towards his son, but the two male strangers were now grabbing him by the shoulders, pulling him back. Moving like that, their suit jackets were flapping, and Troy could see badges.

Vanderson nodded sadly, not letting his eyes leave Troy. "Could you please lift up your shirt, Troy?" he asked softly.

"Troy," his father tried to sound kind and soft, but his voice was only warning, "tell them this is crazy. Troy, please."

On his other side, Troy's mother was whispering, her voice choppy, "Lift your shirt, Troy." And so, with his free hand, Troy reached down to the bottom of his shirt, and with his mother's help, lifted it up to his chin. When she saw the purple spots on Troy's ribcage, Mrs. Bolton began to cry.

Vanderson nodded, and the woman against the wall moved forwards some. "Take him out, please," she said to the two men restraining the now hollering Mr. Bolton, and the men dragged him from the room. Then the woman came forward and said more to Mrs. Bolton than to Troy, "Hello, I'm Carla Davies. I'm from the Community Coalition Against Family Violence. I'm here to help, and I'll be here all through the trial, and for a time afterward, to make sure you and Troy are taken care of. Right now, I think Troy's going to need some rest. I'm going to suggest you stay with close family or friends for a while, people Troy will feel comfortable around. Until counseling later, we wont know how deeply this has affected Troy, so right now he needs nothing but support and love from people he loves. No stress or conflict, if you can avoid it. And a few days off school might do him good."

Mrs. Bolton just nodded, with a few soft, "Okay"s every few sentences. Carla's voice was so soft and kind, Troy didn't feel like saying much of anything; just the sound of her voice made him tired, and he felt like he could fall asleep in his chair. But he kept listening, again absorbing everything mindlessly.

"Now, I'm not sure if anyone pops into your head when I say close friends or family," Carla continued, "but I do know that one of the boys who brought us the pictures says he and Troy are very close, and that his family would be happy to have you as long as you need to stay."

Troy snapped out of his daze and turned to the Carla. "Ryan? Ryan Evans?"

Carla looked surprised at Troy's sudden outburst. She nodded. "Yes, I think that was his name. You two are friends, yes?"

Summoning up the remainder of his strength—he was just so tired all of the sudden—Troy stood from his chair, and his mother stood with him, holding him by the shoulders like she was afraid he would collapse. She told him to sit back down, but he ignored her, and Carla's question. "Is he here? Is Ryan here?"

"Troy, you need to calm down," Carla said soothingly, putting her hands up and showing him her palms for whatever reason. Why did therapists, or whatever the hell she was, always seem to try and do that? Was it supposed to confuse them long enough to let them calm down? "Take a deep breath." After a moment, she put a hand on his shoulder and gently led him out of the room and down the hall, saying to him, "Your friends should be right out in the waiting room with Mrs. Harold."

When they reached the waiting room of the main office, Mr. Bolton and the cops who took him away were nowhere in sight. But up against a wall near Margie Harold's desk were seated Ryan, Sharpay, and Chad, talking amongst themselves and looking anxious. Troy grinned. "Ryan!"

All three heads turned to him, and the blonde boy's face lit up. By the time he was standing, Troy was right in front of him, and he snaked his arms around the smaller boy's waist, burying his face in the crook of Ryan's neck. Ryan hugged him back, softly, trying to make sure he didn't hurt one of the bruises, but Troy didn't care; he was just glad it was over.

When he finally pulled back a little, Ryan reached up and brushed some of Troy's hair out of his eyes, looking at him with sad, concerned eyes. "Are you alright?"

Troy nodded and pulled him closer, resting their foreheads against one another's. Without caring that his mother didn't know he was gay, he leaned forward and brushed his lips against Ryan's, who leaned closer to keep them together. The kiss was soft and simple, but in its way perfect. When the kiss broke, Troy leaned his forehead back against Ryan's. "I'm fine, thanks to you." Then he backed away, took Ryan's hand, and led him over to where Carla and his mom stood. "Mom, this is Ryan," he said proudly, "my boyfriend."

Mrs. Bolton smiled politely and shook Ryan's hand. "Nice to meet you, Ryan."

"Likewise," Ryan smiled kindly. "So, uhm, Carla's partner told me you guys might need a place to stay for a while and... Well if you don't have any other place in mind, my family would love to have you."

A small, "Oh," was all Mrs. Bolton seemed to be able to muster, and she looked skeptical. But Troy puffed out his lower lip pleadingly. "Please? They don't live far. And... Carla says I need to be with people I love, right?"

Mrs. Bolton seemed to hum to herself in thought, and Troy squeezed Ryan's hand nervously; Ryan squeezed back. Finally, Mrs. Bolton sighed in defeat and smiled. "Oh, alright. But you two aren't sharing a bed, understand?"

With reluctance, Troy agreed. Sharpay and Chad joined the group as they walked out of the school, Mrs. Bolton speaking with Carla. When they had fallen back enough, Troy unwound his fingers from Ryan's and moved his hand down to Ryan's ass instead. He grinned and whispered playfully in Ryan's ear, "Don't worry. She's a sound sleeper."

They laughed.

* * *

A gentle knock sounded outside the door, and a moment later it drifted open a few feet and Mrs. Evans stuck her head in. She smiled at Ryan, who was sitting at his desk, looking up from the laptop was typing on. "Goodnight, honey." 

Ryan smiled softly and blew her a kiss. "'Night, mom."

When she was gone, Ryan returned to typing the last few lines into his cyber-journal. He saved his work, and then shut the machine down before standing and stretching, causing a few joints in his back to crack. He looked over to his bed, where out of odd places from a bundle of comforters, body parts were sticking out in all directions. Near the top, close to the side of the bed, a sleeping Troy's head rested on the very edge of a pillow.

Ryan smiled. It was hard to believe that not even a month ago, he was tearing himself apart over the anniversary of the death of his grandfather, and how from then to now, he'd since fallen in love with his crush of two years, lost his virginity to said love, and between the two had his lover taken away from him by an abusive parent before turning in the evidence he needed to get him back. And now, here he was, crawling into bed with Troy Bolton, sure they were both feeling happy and safe.

He dug under the covers and fought his way to a place beside Troy. For a moment he wondered if he could sleep in such an uncomfortable position, but then Troy rolled over in his sleep, dropping an arm over Ryan's chest and resting his head on Ryan's shoulder. Just a slight adjustment of one of Ryan's legs and he was comfortable. With a smile, he buried his face in Troy's hair and signed contently as he closed his eyes.

So what if they were only just beginning? So what if it wasn't likely everyone at school would approve? It's not like they hadn't gone through hell already. Yeah, they'd have to deal with shit, but doesn't it always have to rain before you can see the rainbow? That's why there are all those creepy villains in Disney movies; to prove that happily-ever-afters don't come cheap.

END.

* * *

**Right. So that's it. I really hope you all enjoy this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. Again, I'm sorry it took me so long to finish! If you liked this story, I might suggest reading my story Courage... another couple faced with parental issues. Just a thought, haha. But, as always, REVIEW! Reviews make more good stories from me appear. Ciao till next time!  
**


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